


twelve

by kittpurrson



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Evakteket Challenge, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Ice Skating, Kosegruppa, Love Actually References, M/M, Mistletoe, New Year's Eve, background Eva/Chris, background sana/yousef, vaguely demisexual Vilde
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 12:03:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13076481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittpurrson/pseuds/kittpurrson
Summary: Just because it's Christmas, and at Christmas you tell the truth.Isak is afraid of messing up and Even is afraid of overstaying his welcome. Magnus doesn't know what Vilde wants, and Vilde doesn't know how to want. Eva and Jonas are stuck in the ghost of Christmas past, and nobody knows what the hell they're doing. But it's Christmas, so they muddle through it together.[A merry little Christmas ensemble fic for the Evakteket Christmas Challenge.]





	twelve

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, fandom! I love you times a million, and I'm so grateful to those of you who are still here. <3 <3 <3 
> 
> For our second ever Evakteket Challenge, I decided to make life hard for myself and write not only my first ever canon fic, but a fic with THREE different pairings, and THREE different prompts. I'm a mess, what can I say. :)
> 
> Hopefully it's not TOO obvious that I watched Love, Actually before writing this... but hell, I figure there's nothing wrong with it if it is.
> 
> My prompts were as follows:
> 
> Magnus and Vilde: New Year’s Eve, ice skating, gløgg  
> Even and Isak: holiday movie AU, caught under mistletoe, snowglobe  
> Jonas, Eva, and Chris: a very kosegruppa Christmas, best gift ever, gingerbread

**1\. ISAK**

 

It’s not that Isak is worried about Even not coming to the Kosegruppa Christmas party.

He’d made it clear enough that it was optional, that Even shouldn’t worry if he didn’t feel up to it, but as much as they both try, sometimes minute by minute is easier said than done.

Even spends the day before the party in and out of the covers, clouds passing over his face as Vilde’s phone calls get more and more insistent. Eventually Isak has enough and turns his phone on silent, letting Noora deal with the drama.

Isak couldn’t care less about catering for the party. But then Vilde turns up on the doorstep, chattering about the tree they’re going to buy, and Isak looks behind him to see Even slink into the bedroom and shut the door.

He doesn’t want Vilde to come in, so--

“Okay, okay Vilde,” he says. “But I’m not paying for it.”

He ignores the way her smile twitches, in favour of sending Even a text.

_ I’ll be back soon. Don’t come out if you don’t want to <3 _

-

He finally gets rid of Vilde hours later, once the tree is at just the right place in the kollektiv--not the first place he puts it, nor the second, but Vilde is demanding when she wants something, and Isak is happy to do what she says if it means she’ll leave him in peace for a while.

He thought hosting the party would be nice. And it  _ will _ be nice, to see his friends and relax and be part of the world without worrying about hiding, anymore.

But it’s still a fucking pain to deal with Vilde.

“Baby,” Even says, when Isak comes back into the bedroom and flops down beside him in his hoodie and jeans. Isak feels his cheeks burn with it. The sweet way Even calls him  _ baby _ \--and he’s said it a few times, now, aware, perhaps, of how much Isak likes it. 

“How are you feeling?” Isak asks, once they’ve kissed hello, and Even nods a little, lets the question pass over him like water over a stone.

“Can we chill tonight?” Even asks. “Just us?”

_ Unlike tomorrow _ , Isak hears, and he’s nodding before Even can even finish.

“We could watch a movie,” he says, and Even nuzzles closer to him, carding a hand through his hair.

He’s not surprised when Even opens his laptop, the movie already loaded, but he does smile as he sees the title flash across the scene, settling in as Even pulls him into his shoulder, holds on to him like a life raft. He smiles as Hugh Grant dances around the room, as the little blonde boy crushes on the girl in his class--and he cries at the stupidest places. Even’s laughter gets brighter and brighter, watching his reactions, but then he goes quiet.

On screen, Laura Linney ends her one night stand with the dreamy Karl to answer her brother’s phone call, to talk him down from an episode, and Even’s hand tightens in Isak’s, like he’s forgotten it’s coming. And Karl walks away from her, and she sinks to the floor, focused only on her brother and telling him it will all be alright. Even’s breathing gets heavier.

“Fuck Karl,” Isak says, fiercely, and turns in Even’s arms to kiss him.

“Fuck Karl,” Even echoes, faint but relieved.

-

 

**2\. JONAS**

 

Eva is wearing a red dress and little makeup, her shorter hair swishing around as she laughs at Chris Schistad’s jokes.

She looks happy.

She looks like she knows who she is. Where she belongs.

He knows it’s not fair, but as Chris feeds her the leg of an X-rated gingerbread man, Jonas wishes they could go back. She licks the icing off her lips, and Chris follows the movement with his eyes, and Jonas bites his tongue. Jonas watches it unfold with a heavy weight in his belly, one part saying  _ Penetrator Chris, Eva, really?  _ And the other telling him,  _ well, at least she didn’t cheat on you for something meaningless _ .

Chris and Eva have been hooking up at every party since the new school year began, and Jonas should be used to it. But there’s something about Christmas, about the anniversary of everything ending--Eva with her hair fanning out over her pillow, tears on both of their mouths--that makes it hurt more than usual. Suck more.

Jonas and Isabel are through, which doesn’t help, and they’d promised Isak they wouldn’t smoke up around Even, which leaves him at kind of a loss. It’s easy enough to joke around with Magnus and Mahdi, even to interact with Isak and Even in their little bubble of new love, but Jonas feels, down to his bones, the shallowness of it.

It’s not that he’s unhappy. He doesn’t resent Eva for being happier.

There’s just something about being without her, at Christmas, that makes part of him feel a little bit hollow.

He sticks to the kitchen, eventually, counselling Magnus on Vilde. Poor guy--Jonas can’t even explain what it is about him that reeks of desperation, but for a moment, when Even and Isak share a glance, Jonas thinks he might actually feel jealous.

Jonas has always been pretty good at keeping his chill. Seeming cool, without trying hard. But maybe, he thinks, if he’d showed he’d cared more, maybe things would have been different…

It’s not just Eva. It’s Isak, too, who he managed to push away this year, until they’d both ended up in a place where neither really talks to him like they used to. Jonas misses it--misses being more than the guy with the weed or the guy who gives head or the guy on Isabel’s arm. This spring, he’d managed to convince everyone that he and Eva were chill as friends--everyone except himself--and that they could still hang out, even talk about their hookups.

And then he’d met Isabel, and he’d started getting these looks from the girls at Nissen, and he’d started talking about politics and smoking up with new people, and it had all seemed awesome.

But Isak had been living in a fucking basement and Eva had been getting blackout drunk, partly over the dickhead things he’d said to her, and it wasn’t okay.

It’s only now that he sees them both happy, that he realizes how bad it got.

Even makes a joke about  _ Love, Actually _ , and Isak freezes in his arms for a second before laughing along--and Jonas remembers, a few years ago, when Isak had wanted to watch it.

_ Too gay _ , Jonas and Elias had agreed, and Isak had relented quickly, defensive, letting them overrun him with their *manly* suggestions. Jonas burns with shame to think of it, now.

He’d watched it with Eva, anyway, because she’d wanted to--and he remembers, now, what he thought was such a dick move at the time. The scene with the guy showing up at the girl’s house, his best friend’s wife, telling her he loved her as if she didn’t already know. As if she was free to hear it, and not committed to someone else.

He imagines, for a moment, what would happen. If he went to Eva now, though she’s with Chris, and admitted how he’s been feeling lately. If it would be a dick move. If it would be less than she deserves. More than he deserves, after how he acted.

_ Just because it’s Christmas, and at Christmas you tell the truth,  _ he remembers.

He never even said he was sorry.

-

 

**3\. MAGNUS**

 

“I’ve never fucked anybody before,” Magnus had said, his heart pounding in his chest. “And I really want to.”

“You can fuck me if you like,” she said back.

-

The thing about Magnus is that he’s a good guy, okay? He’d be a good boyfriend, no matter what his friends say when they’re being dickheads joking around. Yeah, okay, there was that time he accidentally said  _ haha thank you  _ when Vilde had sent him a selfie of herself fresh out of the shower, towel-clad though she was. It was fucking hot, like, he was really flustered. It wasn’t his fault. But anyway--the thing about Magnus is that he is really really really into Vilde. And he’s constantly showing her that he doesn’t want her to be sad or to think that he’s just doing it to hook up, but... he also wants to hook up again? 

He wants them to be together. Properly together.

He’s just nervous to ask her why she’s being so skittish about him touching her again. 

Magnus isn’t an idiot, even if people say he is. He tries to ask her in, like, a chill way, but all that results in is a deeply awkward conversation about how her mother is really controlling and Vilde doesn’t want him at her house?? Like--okay. Cool. He can run with that. But also... hello? He’s into her, yet every time he goes to kiss her with tongue she pulls away like he’s the grossest thing on the planet. Sure, it’s with a kiss to the cheek and also this tiny, endearing little nervous giggle, but... what the fuck? Magnus wants Vilde, more than he’s ever wanted anything. 

Why doesn’t Vilde want that, too?

  
Isak just looks at him like he’s stupid when he finally brings it up, a couple of days after Christmas, because  _ Isak _ doesn’t have to worry about whether  _ Even _ wants him. Magnus doesn’t even have to ask; he knows Isak is getting some good and often and in sooo many positions Magnus wants explained. But Magnus doesn’t just want sex from Vilde. Of course—he wants it. But he wants everything else, too. To be close to her.

“Just ask her for dinner or something,” Jonas says, when Magnus finally explains his predicament to the boys. He expects them to laugh, but Jonas takes him seriously, and the others follow suit.

“Yeah,” Mahdi chimes in. “A bit of food, a bit of wine, some atmosphere...”

“And then you ask,” Jonas says. “Straight up, done.”

Magnus can’t do that. A fancy  _ dinner _ ? For Vilde? She’d be even more uncomfortable than she already is.

“Take her skating,” Even suggests, out of the blue, and Magnus perks up. “It’s romantic, but she won’t feel pressured if you’re in public.”

They counsel him through the text message, tactfully avoiding the memory of doing the same for Isak. And when it’s sent, when the little ticks turn blue to tell him Vilde has read his message, they’re at his side, holding their breaths or swigging from beer cans in anticipation as the text bubble pops up on the screen.

_ Ice skating sounds so nice!!  _ Vilde types, more emojis than Magnus knows what to do with.

When he fist pumps the air, the boys are too busy cheering to make fun of him.

-

 

**4\. EVEN**

 

In the days after the party, Eskild refuses to take down the mistletoe. Isak pouts about it, accusing him of trying to catch Even for himself, but Even knows better. Eskild has never seriously flirted with Even, even in the beginning. There was curiosity, then there was suspicion, and then there was concern, but never interest, regardless of what Isak might think.

When Eskild meets his eyes, these days, it’s not concern he sees anymore.

Or--there’s some of that. But mostly, when he meets Even’s eyes, Even thinks Eskild is grateful.

Each morning, in Isak’s kitchen, Even and Isak dance around each other for the butter, the spoons, the coffee pot. Each morning, Even maneuvers them until the plant is above their head, until Isak rolls his eyes and lets Even cup his cheeks as they kiss. Eskild watches it happen like a proud parent, until Isak throws him a  _ look _ and he scurries off to his own room, muttering about  _ ungrateful children  _ and  _ guru perks.  _

And then Isak and Even are alone, and there’s noone to catch them, but they linger, the mistletoe an unneeded excuse for the way they sip kisses from each other, soft and hungry and playful in turn. Some mornings, Isak grimaces at Even’s morning breath but kisses him again anyway before he’ll let him go and brush his teeth. Some mornings, Even wrinkles his nose at the taste of blueberry jam on Isak’s mouth, and kisses him until the taste is long gone.

But Even is happy, nonetheless. Being here, with Isak, feels right.

He knows he should probably leave, soon--back to his parents’ house, back to reality--but each morning he wakes up to a new day at Isak’s side, he feels the fog clear a little, his heart growing ten sizes like Jim Carrey as the Grinch. As the days pass, the decorations come down, and Even worries, quietly, that Isak’s patience will run out as the season does.

But the mistletoe stays, and Isak doesn’t say a word about it, even when Eskild comments on it.

Even meets Isak there, kisses him in gratitude.

As long as the mistletoe is up, it feels like an invitation to stay.

-

 

**5\. VILDE**

 

"What if he doesn’t like it?” 

Vilde stands in front of the mirror in her new dress while Noora helps her pin her hair back.

“The dress?” Eva says from the bed. “Fucking hell, Vilde, you look so hot.”

“He’ll be all over you,” Chris says. “Fucking dick in the air like-”

Sana rolls her eyes at the obscene hand gesture Chris makes, but Vilde only shakes her head. 

“Not the dress,” she says. “The sex.”

Eva and Noora look at each other with identical faces that Vilde can’t read. But they are her friends and friends ask each other these questions, so she doesn’t see why they should look like that.

“You could just ask him,” Noora points out. “In this day and age women should be able to ask men these things, you know.”

“I can’t ask Magnus if I’m good at sex!” Vilde says. What is Noora thinking? She knows Vilde can’t do that stuff!

It’s obvious that Magnus knows something is wrong. Every time he touches her she tenses up--she can feel herself ruining it every time his smile falters, denting his self-esteem as much as he tries to act fine. Vilde knows how to see through that act. She’s been doing it half her life.

When Vilde had hooked up with Magnus at the Kosegruppa party, it hadn’t really been about him. Not totally. Maybe it had been a little bit about how nervous he looked, about how nice it was for a boy to just say what he meant for once, but Vilde was still reeling from Chris’s comment.

Not just because it was rude, but because it got under her skin.

Vilde didn’t need  _ dick _ , but there was something about Kasper and Chris that she envied. Their closeness. Their happiness.

Magnus had been flirting with her all term, and she’d held back from it, afraid that it would be William all over again. But there by the Christmas tree, she’d known that he was different. That, at the very least, Magnus would try not to hurt her.

The sex with Magnus wasn’t horrible, but Vilde has little to compare it to. She’d talked loudly to anyone who’d listen about William, how amazing he was, how good his dick was--but the truth was, she’d wriggled around a little bit until he came and didn’t even think to expect him to get her off, too, until other people mentioned it.

She’d mostly been concerned with how she looked--whether her belly was too big as William pulled her on top of him, whether her chins looked ugly when he was pounding into her missionary style.

Magnus had let her keep the lights low, and touched her gently. She’d taken him in her hand and let him show her what he liked, and he hadn’t pushed her down or choked her--but he’d also been quiet, eyes wide and panicked as he thrust into her. She’d felt, almost, like she was somewhere else. It was so nice, in a way, to be close to him like that, to feel Magnus go still after a couple of minutes and come, embarrassed as he was. But he’d struggled to meet her eyes, afterwards, and for this one, awful moment, she’d thought he was going to get up and walk away.

“You didn’t come,” he said, frowning, and Vilde couldn’t do much, after that, to reassure him.

With William, at least, she’d been better at pretending.

-

 

**6\. EVA**

 

When the doorbell rings, she’s surprised to see Jonas on the other side of it.

But he’s holding a familiar tin, a sheepish expression on his face.

“I told mamma it would be weird,” he says as he hands it over. “But you know how she gets about her gingerbreads.”

It makes Eva’s heart lurch--enough that she steps back, unthinkingly, gestures for Jonas to come inside. He looks around as he does--takes in the new cushions on the sofa, the obviously unlived in state of the living room. Mamma will be back for Christmas Eve, at least, and Eva’s used to being alone in the meantime. 

She can handle her own company more, now that it’s more of a choice. At a text, any one of the girls would come over and chill. Even Chris, as much as he claims to be busy, would drop anything if she was in the mood to mess around. It’s not quite nachos and Narcos, but it’s enough.

“Do you want coffee?” she asks Jonas. He’s standing by the window, lost in thought--and it’s a struggle, in the moment, not to remember last Christmas. Their hands around steaming mugs by the window. The slow goodbye, how their bodies lingered even after their minds had been made up. 

“Shit, yeah,” he says, startled, taking off his gloves and hat. His hair looks ugly and dumb, too long by far, but Eva still remembers tangling her hands in it.

“We should have some gingerbread!” She says brightly, busying herself with opening the tin. And they sit on the sofa together, pretending like it’s normal not to go down to her room, and drink their drinks and munch through the biscuits, making casual chit chat like they’re just old friends and never used to be in love.

(Used to, Eva tells herself. Used to be.)

Okay, Jonas says, and Eva watches as he steels himself. It’s almost funny, thinking about the ways she can still read him, now. That understanding that made it obvious when he was lying to her--it’s still there, but now it tells her he’s nervous.

She doesn’t know why until he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a shoddily-wrapped present.

It’s small, but the wrapping is worn and soft, as if it’s been carried around for weeks. She opens it dubiously, then can’t hide her own surprise at what’s inside.

A plain box opens to reveal a silver bracelet, plain but for two sparkling charms. The first is a simple ‘E’, but the second makes her heart skip.

A ballet dancer hangs with her arms raised

She doesn’t dance anymore, but she misses it. Sometimes, when she was alone in the kitchen, she would push up onto her toes, execute a pirouette. She’d tried to teach Jonas, once, to do it without falling, and they’d ended up collapsed together on her bed, sniggering at the video they’d taken, zooming in on Jonas’s face as his free leg hit the sofa and his socked feet slipped on the floor.

_ Not like wiping out at the skate park _ , he’d said ruefully, and she’d kissed him better until he pulled back, still smiling, and asked her why she didn’t dance anymore.

She danced more, after that, in his kitchen and in her bedroom as Jonas jokingly played Tupac over the speakers. 

It all seems like forever ago.

“Wow,” she says now, because there are no other words for it.

It’s pretty, and it’s thoughtful--and it isn’t a  _ friendly _ present at all. 

“I was going to give it to you last Christmas,” Jonas admits. “I wimped out.”

“It’s beautiful,” Eva says, and Jonas clears his throat.

“You can take the charms off,” he says. “And get new ones if you like, I don’t know.” He looks away, then, self-conscious, and she can’t help reaching out her hand to rest atop his.

Perhaps she’s still in shock.

It’s expensive--Eva can tell that much. She doesn’t know why he wouldn’t just return it--except she does, kind of. Jonas has never been one for buying expensive gifts, or designer clothes. This is the last thing she would have expected from him, even when they were in a relationship--so it must have meant something to him. To get her something so personal to who they were, to who she was.

It’s no wonder he didn’t give it to her then, after everything they said to each other. 

“Thank you,” she says, belatedly, because she doesn’t know what else to say. She holds out her wrist and he puts it on, thick eyebrows drawing together in concentration as he does up the clasp.

Her gaze strays to Jonas’s lips, and she panics.

“Merry Christmas,” she says, standing up abruptly, taking his mug to wash.

When she comes back from the sink, the moment has passed.

The strange feeling in her gut remains.

-

 

**7\. PENETRATOR CHRIS**

 

The best thing about hooking up with Eva is that she knows what kind of person he is, and doesn’t expect him to change.

Sometimes that’s the worst thing, too, but mostly Chris likes it. Likes how Eva sets her own rules and does whatever the fuck she wants, and tells him when he does things she doesn’t like.

She might be the first girl he’s been with who really seems to love having sex.

Which is why, when he’s pushing into her and she suddenly goes quiet, he mostly assumes he’s doing something wrong.

(Never say Chris isn’t willing to learn.)

“Eva,” he says, but she’s somewhere else. “Eva?”

Her eyes snap to his, guilty, and he glances over to see that she’s been looking at the clock, behind him. He doesn’t hesitate to pull out, raising an eyebrow at her sheepish expression.

“Somewhere to be?” He asks, because by now he knows how to tell the difference between a girl upset over him and a girl upset over something else.

“No,” she says, shrugging, and he lets her curl her hand around his neck, pull him in for a kiss. 

So she doesn’t want to talk about it.

“Sorry to bore you,” he jokes, and she huffs a little, rolling her eyes as a small smile paints her pretty mouth. 

“Sorry,” she says. “There’s just so much to do, for New Year.”

Her party. Right.

If Eva was his girlfriend, Chris might ask her to talk about it. But then, if Eva was his girlfriend, a lot of things about this would be different.

“Should I go?” he asks, trying to sound responsible and serious. It’s not easy, with his dick hard between her thighs, aching to be inside her again.

“No,” she says, wrapping a hand around him. “I’m here, I promise.”

Chris doesn’t know who she’s trying to prove it to, but she flips them over, then, sinking down on him with practised ease. He watches as she rolls her hips, her beautiful body a long column above him as she throws back her head, eyes closed tight as she murmurs wordlessly.

Chris doesn’t have much experience with girls using him for their own pleasure, but he’s not going to complain. For all her insecurities, Eva isn’t shy about this--about her own nakedness, her own desires. 

And, okay, so Chris is starting to get the idea that they’re much more complicated than he realised.

But as long as he gets to come, and there isn’t any drama, Chris is chill to let her do her thing. 

His hands drift to her hips, and he holds on for the ride.

-

 

**8\. MAGNUS**

 

Christmas songs, check. Christmas tree, check. Tiny children speeding around as Magnus struggles to keep his balance?

Fuck, Magnus had forgotten how shit he was at ice-skating.

Vilde tries not to look alarmed as he goes crashing to the floor for the tenth time, helping him to his feet with surprising strength. When Magnus lets her go again, she skates backwards away from him with impressive grace, and he can’t help opening his mouth.

“You’re a good skater,” he says, and he’s rewarded with a bright, pleased expression on Vilde’s face.

“Thank you,” she says, then hesitates. 

It’s like the cat thing all over again, Magnus thinks--like she wants to do something, but is afraid of how he’ll react. But before he can reassure her, she’s turning around, skating away into an empty patch of ice, and launching into a graceful spin that has people around her gasping. 

She wobbles a little at the end, but people around her clap anyway--Magnus loudest of them all.

“That was fucking amazing,” he tells her after, once she finally takes pity on him. They sit at a wooden bench beside the rink, a faux-fur blanket wrapped around both of their shoulders. 

They both sip from cups of over-priced gløgg, turning Vilde’s mouth a pretty red.

“I took lessons when I was small,” she admits, cheeks nearly as pink as her coat. “I love skating.”

“Why’d you stop?” Magnus asks, and Vilde’s face falls, just the tiniest bit.

“My mamma,” she says, then trails off. She seems like she’s searching for an answer--and it won’t necessarily be a true one.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “You don’t have to tell me.”

He knows as much as anyone how hard it can be, talking about family trouble. It’s only recently that he’s been able to talk to the boys about his mamma, and some of the bigger things they’ve been through. 

“My mamma is bipolar,” he says, finally. “I had to drop out of my football team, when I was a kid... she beat up my coach’s car for making me play goalie.” He pauses, to see Vilde looking at him with wide eyes. He grins, because it’s okay, and he doesn’t want her to think it isn’t. “I was a fucking awful goalie.”

“She’s like Even?” Vilde asks, and Magnus shrugs. Even and his mother are as alike as any two people with the same diagnosis are alike--which is to say not at all, really, except for some shared experiences. “Do you have to look after her?”

For some reason, Vilde seems bothered by that, but Magnus doesn’t know why. He’d do anything for his mother. She’s amazing.

“I don’t have to,” Magnus says. “But if she’s having an episode, yeah. I love her, so I try to help if I can.”

Vilde takes a big sip of her drink, avoiding Magnus’s eyes. When she starts talking again her voice is small, and her hands shake. There’s no trademark grin, and her voice seems deeper, somehow, less bright.

“My mamma is sick too,” she says, and Magnus listens as she lets loose, unravels three year’s worth of burden and lays it out in front of him.

By the end of it, Magnus’s drink is cold, but Vilde moves closer to him, and he couldn’t give a fuck about the drink. He pulls Vilde in for a hug, breathes in the smell of her shampoo as she sighs into his neck. And after a while, they start talking about other things--happier things--but it’s like the floodgates are wide open, and when Magnus looks at Vilde, he thinks he could have just this, and be happy. Even if she doesn’t want to touch him, or kiss him. 

But when all is said and done, as the rink starts to empty, Vilde leans in and presses her lips to his.

_ I really like you _ , Magnus thinks, kissing her back. 

-

 

**9\. ISAK**

 

Even after the plates are cleared, and the three of them have been drinking hot chocolate on the sofa for a good half an hour, Isak hasn’t quite shaken the nerves.

He hadn’t been lying when he told Even it wasn’t awkward, but that doesn’t mean this isn’t a big deal for him.

When Even’s mamma had opened the door, Even had hugged her for a long time, before introducing Isak as his boyfriend. 

It wasn’t the first time Isak had been called that. Not even the first by Even. But it  _ was _ his first time meeting the parents, and with that word it had sunk in pretty damn fast.

Even’s mother hadn’t been phased, but she hadn’t been overly affectionate, either. Where Even was bright, his mother was fierce, dry and wary as she took in Isak, appraised their relationship. She’d smiled at him, eventually, thanking him for taking care of Even, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was reserving judgement.

The food had been good and the conversation had flowed fine, but now--now that they’re sat like this, trying to relax, all Isak can think of is his own mother. Whether it will ever be possible, in any way, shape, or form, for Even to be invited into Mamma’s home like this.

As Even’s hand finds his own, Isak looks everywhere but at Even’s mother, tamping down his panic. They settle on the mantlepiece, lined by a collection of colourful snowglobes, each ornate and unique.

“Um, cool snowglobes,” Isak says, and Even’s mother smiles. Teasingly Even begins to rub his thumb over Isak’s knuckles, trying to bring Isak’s focus back to him.

“I’ll let Even tell you about them,” she says, checking her watch pointedly. “I’ll go check on dessert.

Isak feels his cheeks warm as she leaves, shooting her son a knowing look. Beside him, Even laughs, getting to his feet and pulling Isak up alongside him.

“Hey,” he murmurs, pressing a fleeting kiss to Isak’s forehead. “She likes you.”

She likes him about as much as any parent could, Isak thinks. He’s not exactly known for being a good houseguest. It doesn’t help, either, that in every part of the flat there’s a reminder of the newness of this, of him and Even building something honest. Even’s father, unmentioned but for the ornament that reads  _ Pappa _ on the tree. Even’s medication refills, pressed into his hands by his mother to pack into Isak’s backpack. The picture of Even and Sonja still hanging on the wall.

“She’s nice,” Isak says, because there’s being honest and there’s ruining things, and he knows where the line is. Even doesn’t seem worried, so Isak tries not to be.

The snowglobes aren’t much of a distraction, but Isak lets Even’s voice wash over him, confident and comfortable surrounded by the ghosts of his Christmases past. Even pulls him close as he tells the stories behind each globe, years and places and memories laid out on the mantle in front of them. Isak is glad for it--that Even has so much happiness to remember, despite how hard things sometimes get. 

As Even’s comes back into the room with dessert, Isak thinks he’ll call his own mother, tonight.

-

 

**10\. EVA**

 

~~ Hey, u wanna watch Fresh Prince ~~

~~ Are you free to hang out ~~

~~ I’m ordering pizza if you feel like ~~

None of them sound right.

Eva isn’t sure how she did it, in the Spring--just casually invited Jonas to hang out in her room like they hadn’t lost their virginity in that bed, hadn’t said I love you on that sofa. 

It’s been months since Jonas climbed through her window, and she doesn’t know how to get past that break without acknowledging why they didn’t manage to maintain their friendship.

It was too hard, before. Even now, it’s really difficult.

Eva and Jonas have never really been just friends.

A new message notification comes in, and she swipes it open without a thought. It’s Chris, again, a simple  _ you free tonight _ just like any other. She could reply, she knows. For a moment, she considers asking if  _ Chris _ is down for some Netflix and chill, for real, but she doesn’t know what she’d even say to him if he took her up on it.

She doesn’t know how he likes his pizza, or how he feels about old Ashley versus new Ashley. And that doesn’t seem right.

_ Nope sorry _ :( she types out, then switches over to Noora’s chat.

_ H _ , she types, gratified when Noora immediately starts typing a response.  _ For “help please bring me ice cream”. _

_ Be there in 15 _ , Noora replies.

-

 

**11\. VILDE**

 

They’ve got another 90 minutes until the year is over, and Magnus has his arm around Vilde’s shoulder, anchoring her.

Any other time, before, she might be sitting on Eva’s sofa, watching prettier girls dance and kiss each other and drink themselves stupid--but Magnus is right here tonight, making quiet comments in her ear about everyone that passes, until her sides hurt from laughing.

Vilde is going to have sex with him again tonight. Not because she has to--Magnus has been clear about that--but because she trusts him enough to think maybe it’ll be different this time.

Maybe this time, she won’t worry about pretending.

Magnus, though, acts like it doesn’t matter if she doesn’t go all the way again. In Eva’s kitchen, he lets her press him against the countertops, opens his mouth readily for her tongue--and Vilde, for the first time in her life, feels a thrill as his hand trails up her back, comes to rest in her hair. 

He lets her lead him downstairs, where it’s quiet, lets her climb atop him on Eva’s mussed sheets.

“Hey,” he says, as her heart starts to race. “Can we try something?”

It doesn’t still her nerves, at all, but she nods her head as he disentangles himself, shuffling down the bed until his head is between her--oh.

“Magnus!” she says, aware that her voice is ridiculously high. 

Boys don’t do this, Eva says. Vilde has never even imagined it.

“Jonas said girls like it,” Magnus admits, when Vilde says as much, and she bites her lip. He looks so earnest, so eager to please her, that her initial panic fades.

(What if it doesn’t taste nice? What if she still doesn’t like it?

What if Magnus leaves her?)

“We don’t have to,” Magnus says, his sweet face betraying no hint that it’s not true. He pulls himself back up until he’s lying next to her, and puts a hand on her cheek.

She didn’t feel safe like this, with William.

Magnus’s touch, gentle as it is, feels different. For the first time, as he leans in to kiss her, she feels herself shiver, imagining his mouth somewhere else.

“We can try,” she says, pulling back, and Magnus’s grin takes over his whole face.

He kisses her and kisses her, peppering her cheeks with enthusiastic kisses until her sides hurt from laughing, and she has to pull him back in for something more, sucking his tongue into her mouth and gasping as his hands trail down to push up her skirt.

Vilde isn’t afraid, for the first time. The feeling in her belly isn’t quite like fear.

As soon as his mouth gets  _ down there _ , she understands what all the fuss was about. This is--Vilde has never felt like this before. This--Magnus hums, like he’s enjoying it, and Vilde feels it go through her like a current, and he looks up, checking to see that she’s okay.

Vilde meets his eyes, and threads her hand in his hair, letting his name fall from her lips in wonder.

She feels more than sees it as he smiles.

-

 

**12\. SANA**

 

Sana sees everything.

Across the room, Jonas watches Eva kiss Penetrator Chris, then turns away. Eva’s eyes stray from Chris just moments later, lingering on the cloud of Jonas’s dark hair as he turns to hug Mahdi, seemingly all smiles and laughter. 

Magnus and Vilde come back in holding hands, their pink cheeks fooling nobody. Sana would say something about it--the inappropriateness of doing it in Eva’s house--but when she looks closer, Vilde’s eyes are shiny. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Magnus whispers, and Sana watches the way Vilde hears it, takes it in, grips his fingers a little bit tighter.

“Thank you,” Vilde says, quietly, and Sana looks away. When she looks back, catching Magnus’s eye, all she can bring herself to do is wish them a  _ happy new year _ , minding the clench of her heart at Vilde’s smile.

Back in the kitchen, Noora is missing William (again). Even and Isak are kissing in the stairwell as if nobody else exists, Even’s hands bracketing Isak’s face like a lifeline, like if they don’t look around then their bubble won’t burst.

Sana checks her phone, smiles at the selfie her brother has sent of all of his friends.  _ Even is doing okay btw _ , she wants to say, but it isn’t her place.  _ Try harder _ , she wants to say, but this is a new year, and not time to say the same old things.

This is a time for new beginnings.

When Sana looks around, she feels that as much as anyone.

Eva is approaching Jonas, now, tapping him on the shoulder for a hug. They don’t let go for a long time.

Magnus and Vilde are dancing like there’s a slow song playing, and Chris and Noora are waltzing beside them with matching smiles. 

Eskild is talking to Mahdi, now, Isak and Even by their side. Eskild is reaching out, ruffling Isak’s hair, and Isak does nothing but roll his eyes and grin, as Even tugs him under the crook of his arm. Eskild is smiling, and Mahdi is smiling, and Sana basks in their delight.

It is a new year, and when Sana looks at her friends, she remembers what Isak said--what drunk Eva posted to the group chat at Christmas like it held the answers to the universe.

Sana looks back to her phone, where another picture has come through--Yousef and Elias, mugging for the camera.  _ Happy new year girl.  _ It’s clearly not her brother’s handiwork, and her heart starts to race.

With a deep breath, Sana smiles, and starts to type her reply.

The clock is showing 12 minutes after midnight.

(Life is now.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at towonderland72, or evakteket for all your fic-rec needs.


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